


Unsteady

by The_Literary_Assassin



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Literary_Assassin/pseuds/The_Literary_Assassin
Summary: Andy is going through some stuff during the time of the incident in Paris. The recovery is going to be one part brutal, and one part beautiful.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, here's a surprise one shot. I say surprise, cos that's what I am! I had started writing More Than Just Baggage, then I heard a song, and you know how THAT goes! So here we are. The song is Unsteady by the X Ambassadors. Bit different from my usual fare, but there it is. Hope you all enjoy it. I feel the love coming back to my writing brain. Ironically, I needed to get busier for all those nice little ideas to start creeping back. So here we are. Hope you like it. Not beta-ed and I really only had a cursory glance over it, so forgive me for that. I'm sure you'll all let me know if there's anything obvious! Also, where the hell did all this come from. I intended it to be something VERY different to what it ended up as. And also, disclaimer. I have a good friend with Epilepsy, but I don't have it myself, so basically, I've relied on research. Apologies if I got anything wrong.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Andy didn't see the phone hit the water. Truthfully, as she rounded the corner, she wasn't even sure why she'd dropped it. It had seemed so simple in the heat of the moment, and now, now it was the most complicated thing she could have done. But she knew what it meant.

Rule number 1. Don't ever let Miranda's call go to voicemail.

As the gravity of what she'd done hit her, she choked. Stumbling down a little alley she vomited, only narrowly managing to avoid her shoes.

Not  _ her  _ shoes.

_ Miranda's _ .

She heaved again, and her eyes watered at the force of her emptying stomach. Between Christian, and the luncheon, and Miranda's words, Andy didn't know how to feel. She was more unsteady on her feet at this moment than she'd ever been learning to walk in heels.

Fumbling for a tissue in her clutch, her hands trembling, she wiped her mouth and looked around. She didn't know Paris. She knew the areas where the fashion shows were. She'd made sure she did, but this area was not that. This area was somewhere else, and she blinked, wondering how she'd even got here. Had she walked all this way without realising?

Gulping a few deep breaths, she glanced around looking for a water fountain - the irony wasn't lost on her. She needed to rinse her mouth.

"Mademoiselle? Ça va?"

She turned, frowning at the young busboy who was looking at her in concern. Her French was even worse than her geography.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine."

"Anglais?"

"Oui," Andy said, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

"Are you okay madam?"

"I'm fine," Andy tried to smile, but didn't think she'd been very successful. "Do you, do you know the way back to the Hotel Plaza Athénée?"

"Oui bien sûr," he smiled. "Perhaps some water?"

She thanked him as he passed her a bottle of water and she took a big gulp, wincing at the taste.

"Thank you."

"De rien," he smiled. "Ze hotel, it is down the Rue Saint-Florentin to the Place de Concorde, do you know your way from zere?"

"Um, I might," Andy said, glancing up at the sky and frowning at how dark it was getting.

"Cross the plaza, to the Place de la Concorde. Stay at ze edge of the park and follow ze Champs-Élysées to the," he frowned. "Le cercle?" He made a circular motion with his hand.

"Circle?"

"Oui!," he smiled. "It would not be good for you to be in the park after dark. You will find Avenue Montaigne at the circle. l'Athénée  is half way along."

Andy struggled to keep the instructions together in her head, but she nodded, noticing a car pull up to the curb.

"Merci beaucoup," she said, leaving him to his work and walking the way he pointed.

She made it back to the plaza, pausing to watch the fountain for just a moment.

How could she have been so stupid, to have thrown everything away like that.  _ Just as _ , she shook her head, trying to rid herself of her thoughts.  _ Just as you were getting somewhere _ , an unhelpful voice supplied.

She felt the pure exhaustion creeping up on her shoulders, and she knew she needed to get back. There was a throbbing pain behind her eye. Experience told her that if she left it too long, she'd be in danger of a migraine, or worse, a seizure.

It had taken her so long to get her fits under control. Epilepsy was no joke. It was the one thing Andy worked at most. Finding a treatment regime that suited her, and that worked to keep the seizures at bay. And now there was a persistent pounding behind her right eye.

She muttered the instructions to herself as she walked past the fountain, turning back at the last minute to look for the phone. In the waning light, the bottom of the fountain was obscured. She sat down with a huff and looked in her clutch. She had no money, relying on Miranda for transportation. She had her entry badge to the fashion shows, but they didn't look as official as they could. No cab driver worth their salt would accept that as collateral for payment at the other end.

Rolling her neck a few times, she stood, wincing as her shoes pinched and walked down the Champs-Élysées. She realised as she passed the first entrance to the park that the busboy was right - she did not want to go there after dark. It was stressful enough as it was to walk beside the six lane road - if it could be called that. She winced as a particularly aggressive driver swerved around some traffic and his lights shone right in her eyes.

There was no escaping it tonight. Andy knew already. At some point between where she was and getting back to the hotel, she'd almost certainly have a seizure. And it was exactly not where she wanted to be. She was already fuzzy. She recited the directions in her head, and then out loud when her head became too muffled. By the time she came to the traffic circle, she wasn't sure she was saying it right anymore.

She found the crossing and watched the man turn green. And then red, and then green again. Someone bumped into her and she blinked, realising that green meant go and rushed across the road. Only she had no idea what she was supposed to do next. She stood, looking around and realised she was well and truly fucked.

Struggling to control her breathing as the fuzziness got worse, she swallowed a few times, feeling like her tongue was two sizes too big for her mouth. She found another crossing and followed the people on it until she read the sign on the road she now faced. She was pretty sure that was it, so she followed someone who went that way without thinking. Nearly anywhere was better than on the busiest road in Paris.

Even as she walked, she felt a familiarity as she struggled to focus on one thing or another. She could feel it coming as she stopped in front of a very bright light on the side of a building.

"Excuse"

She blinked hard, as someone bumped into her. She was desperate to come back from wherever her brain was slipping away to. She needed to tell someone. She could hear someone talking nearby, someone familiar and she stumbled as she tried to move closer. Her legs were going. And it wouldn't be long until she was on the ground.

She tried to call out to him, but her mouth wouldn't move either.

"Hang on Miranda, there's someone about to be killed in the road. Madame sortez de la route!"

"Nigel," she breathed.

"Shit, Andy?!"

"Nige," she breathed, as she felt his hand on her arm. "Gonna go, can't stop it. No hospital."

"What? Andy, I don't understand, what happened? Andy?" his voice got further away, but she was sure he was still holding her arm. "Fuck, MIRANDA!"


	2. Chapter 2

She vomited as soon as her eyes opened, she had no clue where she was, or what had happened. Her stomach revolted and there were tears running down her face by the time her body was still.

"Easy, easy," a disembodied voice said near her ear. "It's alright."

"Water!"

"Here," a straw touched her lips and she drank greedily. Her head would not stop pounding and she winced with the pain of it. "Hold on, let me close the blinds."

The room was darker when the mystery person returned but Andy couldn't give a shit. Her body was absolutely out of her control and -

"Ow, fuck."

She'd bitten her tongue.

"It's alright," that voice came again. "Lay still, I'll get a towel and help you change."

She had no clue who it was and to be honest, she didn't care. She definitely wasn't in a hospital and that was all that matters. The relief, coupled with the after effects made her chin wobble, as a lone tear ran down her face.

"Don't cry," the voice said gently. "It's okay, you're safe."

The voice was so familiar and provided so much comfort that Andy  burst into tears. Great, sobbing, gut wrenching tears. It only made her feel worse as her already tired stomach cried it in pain.

"Easy, easy. Let me get you changed, unless you think you'll vomit again?"

She couldn't answer that. She didn't even really know who she was at this point, only that something terrible was going to happen. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to be 5 years old curled up on her grandfather's knee, dozing as he watched NASCAR.

A cool cloth brushed her face and the temperature shock made her cry out. Everything was hyper-stimulated. The light touch hurt, the cold hurt. Every molecule in her body hurt. But someone, so carefully, was changing her into some sort of soft pyjamas. By the time the covers were pulled up under her chin, she was already falling sleep again.

As her mind succumbed, Andy managed to sob a single word.

"Miranda -"

"I'm here, you're okay."

She must have been dreaming.

-0-

The next time she woke up, Andy sat up immediately. Her eyes were wide as she looked around. She had no idea where she was, or why she was here, but it was bad.  Something , everything, was terribly wrong.

"Andy?"

Her eyes widened as she comprehended who was talking.

"Nigel?"

"Hey kid," he said gently, sitting down slowly beside her bed. "You made quite a dramatic re-entry."

"Where's Miranda. Something," she frowned, trying to think past the chainsaw buzzing between her ears. "Something's wrong. I need, she needs to -"

"Easy kid," Nigel whispered, his hand taking hers. "Everything's okay."

"Is she safe?"

"I'm quite safe Andréa. We're all quite safe."

"The girls? Where are they? Are they in danger."

"Hush now," Miranda said, sitting in the seat Nigel vacated. She reached over and took Andy's hand in hers. If her brain had been working properly, she was sure it would have screeched to a halt. As it was, Andy gripped it hard and kept checking the room.

"Andrea?"

She wanted to listen, she really did.

"Andréa?"

She glanced at Miranda, but felt the need to keep checking the room.

"Andréa!"

The sharp tone made her look directly into Miranda's eyes. The azure pools of endless light pulling her in.

"Andréa. We are all quite well. Nothing is happening, nor going to happen. Do you remember what happened?"

She stared for a beat longer, before blinking. She missed it.

"I," she frowned. "I don't know."

"Andréa? Listen to me. You had a seizure. I had Emily send me your employment records and you suffer from epilepsy, is that right?"

"I had a seizure?" Andy frowned, swallowing and groaning. "My mouth hurts."

"It will," Miranda said gently. "You bit your tongue."

"Oh," Andy blinked, looking at her hands. "Everything hurts."

"I know," Miranda's thumb twitched on the back of Andy's hand where she was holding it. "Rest. We'll be here. It's okay."

"You hungry kid?"

Andy shook her head, but burst into tears when it hurt to do so. Someone wrapped her up in an embrace and she cried until she couldn't feel anything anymore.

-0-

She woke up slowly this time, with only fuzzy memories of the previous times. Her eyelids fluttered for a while before they would open. When they did, she found herself frowning as she tried to figure out where she was.

"Easy," a voice said by her head. "You're in my suite. You've been in and out of it for a few days."

"Miranda?"

Andy looked over and saw a Miranda sans makeup, sitting in a wing back chair by the head of the bed. She blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from her brain and understand what she was seeing.

"Wait," she looked down. She was wearing pyjamas and had been tucked into a bed that was far larger than any she'd ever slept in.

"Miranda?!"

"It's alright," she said quietly, smiling like they were sharing an inside joke. "You've had a very rough couple of days, and I probably should have thought to put some make-up on."

"No!" Andy yelled, shocking both of them and making her grab her head. "I mean, please, don't. Not on my account."

They fell into an awkward silence. As Andy wracked her brain for something to say, she realised what Miranda had said.

"Wait, DAYS?"

Miranda hummed in agreement.

"You had your seizure on Friday, the last day of the fashion week. It is now Tuesday."

"What?"

"We couldn't very well travel home with you in this state, now could we," she said, standing with a sigh.

It was then Andy noticed she was wearing that bathrobe.

"Miranda -"

"You've same my name so many times, even I am beginning to tire of it Andréa," Miranda sighed, looking at her as she poured a glass of water. "Here, drink. The doctor suggested that you would be dehydrated and angry and hungry when you woke up."

"Not hungry," Andy turned up her nose.

"Nevertheless, you will eat," Miranda smiled, her hand twitching a little before she turned away.

"My tongue is -"

"I know, which is why there's soup coming for now. We shall navigate more solid food as it heals."

"Miranda -"

"Andréa," she said, almost tiredly as she dropped back into the chair.

"Thank you," she said, choking on the last word. "I didn't, I truly didn't mean to I just was angry and I -"

"Shh," Miranda whispered, now sitting on the bed beside Andy's head. "I know. I have that affect on people. Although I wish you'd told me you had epilepsy. I would have paid much closer attention and tried not to treat you so abominably."

"I was, I wasn't -" she looked up at Miranda's big blue eyes again. "Am I dreaming?"

"No darling, not dreaming."

"Darling?"

"I would say we've been dancing around it long enough, don't you? If," she frowned. "If you can forgive me the way I acted?"

"One of the signs of a seizure is out of character behaviour. You've done worse," Miranda looked at her and she swallowed, wincing as her tongue pulled. "I mean, you've been more spiteful before, to me and I didn't do anything drastic. Nigel, he forgave you almost as soon as you said it. But I, something wouldn't let me. I," she shrugged, wishing she hadn't. Her shoulders hurt like hell. "I don't know. He said you'd pay him back."

"I will, and he and I have already discussed it. I should have told him, but between you showing up at my door in the previous night's clothes reeking of cologne, and Irv, and Stephen I -" Miranda sighed. "I made a mistake."

"Even Miranda Priestly makes mistakes I guess," Andy smiled in reply to Miranda's. "I should warn you, I'm going to be sore and grumpy for about a week. Like, out of character grumpy."

"So the doctor said," Miranda smiled, cupping Andy's cheek gently. "We shall weather this. But I will say that I am so very glad you are okay."

"You're sure I'm not dreaming?"

"I'm sure, but in case you need proof," Miranda whispered, leaning in and brushing her lips against Andy's in a barely-there whisper of a kiss.

"And I'm alive? I'm not in heaven?"

"Andréa," Miranda drawled, though she did not look angry. She actually looked the most peaceful Andy had ever seen. "It has done me good to sit here and watch over you," she explained, as if reading Andy's thoughts. "Soul searching, one would call it."

"And?"

"And I have concluded that if you will have me, I would like to," she frowned, opened and closed her mouth a number of times before shrugging. "Date you, I suppose. See where this goes?"

"Now I know I died. I got run over didn't I. In the road. I think I remember there being a road."

"Of all the ridiculous -"

Andy pulled on Miranda's sleeve and kissed her gently before she could finish her sentence. She felt Miranda's lips curl into a smile and knew hers were too.

"You will rest," Miranda ordered quietly, her fingers trailing the outline of Andy's face. "There is no rush to get back to New York. The girls are with their father, and the magazine is up to date until Thursday. Most of what is needed I can do online."

"I will rest," Andy said tiredly, letting her head lay back on the pillow. "Because it isn't hyperbole what these things do to you, but only on one condition?"

"Hmm?" Miranda asked, smiling as Andy's yawned widely.

"Come lay with me? You rest too. I've kept you here for days, after your busiest week of the year. Least I can do is hold you while I rest the rest."

"You are a ridiculous creature," Miranda smiled, looking pleased. "As soon as you eat the soup that Nigel has procured for you, I will join you."

"You drive a hard bargain," Andy smiled.

She felt it falter as her brain supplied some unhelpful comments in the voices of her friends.  _ Miranda-Girl. _

"It's alright," Miranda's voice cut in. "The world will right itself soon enough my darling. Stick with us until then, hmm?"

She wanted to explain, to say something more, but Andy realised everything she wanted to say would keep. She picked up Miranda's hand, the one resting on her thigh and kissed the back of it.

"Yes Miranda."


End file.
